


Rowan's Rose

by Kammeri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Drinking, F/M, Old Married Couple, One Shot, Short & Sweet, The Calling (Dragon Age), Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23089243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kammeri/pseuds/Kammeri
Summary: As Elissa Cousland approaches maturity and enters into her 45th year, a faint echo whispers into her ear, driving her nearly mad. As she realizes what's to come, her and Alistair must have a final conversation.
Relationships: Alistair & Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	Rowan's Rose

# Rowan's Rose

“Alright, West Hill Brandy for the man, and for you, dearie?”

“Rowan’s Rose, please.”

The tavern mistress’ pen scribbled the orders messily onto a small piece of parchment rested upon a stone tablet. The scent of alcohol, of charred wood from the crackling fire, and the odorous sweat of the crowded nearby patrons filled Elissa Cousland’s nose. Her eyes traveled around the room; eight rickety wooden tables filled with customers chatting amongst themselves. No one even glanced at her. She silently thanked the Maker for that. Nevertheless, she felt somewhat nauseous, but not from the various aromas or a cooked meal. Indeed, it was from something far worse. She brushed a strand of her fading brunette hair around her ear where a deep scar running along her jawline laid. Opposite of her sat a dirty-blond haired man, somewhat disheveled, but oddly jovial, a result of the thoughtless smile spread across his face.

“I’ll get that right out for you, hon.”

Her fingers drummed the wood in a steady beat; a nervous tick of hers developed when she was but a young girl under the tutelage of Aldous. As the waitress made a swift turn back to the bar, the man’s eyes shifted to his companion, filling with concern. He cleared his throat lightly. “Everything alright?”

Her fingers stopped, and she cursed herself silently. He had a knack for recognizing that damn habit. Her eyes failed to meet his sympathetic gaze, instead lingering on the stained table. A beat of silence passed, the air between the two tense, a stark contrast between the joyous cheers of the inebriated clientele. She closed her eyes to clear her pounding head. She could hardly focus, incoherent murmurs running rapidly through her mind, and as the man opened his mouth to repeat his question, she responded with, “Everything’s fine.”

Unconvinced, he narrowed his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing beneath his slightly wrinkled forehead. “That trick doesn’t work on me anymore.” His hand reached forward to grasp hers in his palm, and he attempted to soothe the troubled woman, rubbing his thumb along her bony hands. “Can I do anything or-“

“No. And I don’t need you to worry about it, so there’s no point in you knowing,” she snapped. She had then realized her mistake. Now he knew there was something to know. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Well, now I have to know.”

She released a sigh and refused to make eye contact. “No, Alistair.”

“Are you worried about the people? No one even recognizes us here.”

“No one recognizes us anywhere anymore.”

It was true. Perhaps it had been the amount of time since the last Blight. They were still heroes, but their legends of honor and glory were no longer fresh in their minds. Or perhaps people did know; they just didn’t care, though that would be extremely unlikely considering the impact of the duo’s actions. Perhaps it was their looks. Everyone would expect the Hero of Ferelden to live a lavish lifestyle, dressed in the finest clothing with the most expensive jewels. But here she was, in the middle of a random tavern with the appearance of any other commoner.

“So… you want recognition again?”

“ _I’m fine._ Do you? You talk about it like you do.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in this world. No worse than the darkspawn, right?” He gave a slight chuckle, attempting to soothe the tension, but failing miserably as Cousland coughed awkwardly, then rolled her eyes.

“Where is that wine already?”

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong?”

“Will you please leave me be?”

“You’d think you could tell your own husband what’s wrong.” His voice hesitated, slightly hurt at her constant refusal to answer his questions. Out of instinct, he ran his fingers along his wedding band, twirling it back and forth in his finger.

“As opposed to what? Telling Leliana?”

“Well, marriage is a symbol of trust... or something like that. Leliana went on and on about it.”

“And I do trust you. But it doesn’t matter, and I don’t need you to worry.”

“What does that even mean?”

Her breath caught in her throat, lungs in pain from the pressure of holding back tears, and she could no longer find the words to retaliate. As persuasive as she was, Alistair was oddly ten times more than she. She was just buying time at this rate. He’d find a way to make her spill her darkest secrets. He always did. She had one weakness in this world, and it just happened to sit a few inches away from her.

“Elissa,” he prodded once more, pulling her away from her stray thoughts.

She caved. “I heard it.”

He seemed confused. “Heard what?”

The words could not leave her mouth. She could not bring herself to say that which would hurt him the most. Slowly, she met his amber eyes, pools of sweet honey that matched his kind heart, and after a brief moment, he understood what she meant, and that innocent, naive smile that stayed with him through so many years fell at last. But she didn’t understand. The world was still turning. The other tavern-goers were still drinking, their mugs tapping one another as they cheered in celebration. Ladies weaved their way through the numerous tables, smiling as they offered a diverse selection of liquor. Eight tables remained in their places. The smell had gotten a bit worse perhaps, but everything was the same as it was five minutes ago.

And yet it wasn’t.

This was it then. Both of them knew what was to come, yet nothing could have prepared them for the moment in which it became a reality. One felt sadness in its purity and entirety; a deep sorrow that reached into the depths of his soul and gripped his heart tightly, casting shadows upon the lightness in his eyes. The other felt a pit of regret and guilt in her stomach that gnawed at her, killing any relief she might have now that her secret was revealed.

The waitress swung back around, delivering their drinks with a heavy thud as they slammed on the table, alcohol spilling out over the side and trickling down the rusty mug. “Sorry ‘bout that wait. Anything else I can get you two?”

Cousland shook her head, giving her a weak smile before taking a sip of her drink. “No, thank you.” The waitress gave a nod and turned to the other customers. Cousland’s focus shifted back to Alistair who could not bear to touch his drink. “It’ll be okay.”

“I’ve been doing this longer. Why didn’t I hear it before you?”

She swallowed, unsure of what to say to comfort her beloved. She hated herself. She wanted to avoid tormenting him with the thought of her gone. He didn’t deserve that. She cleared her throat, and scooted her chair closer to him before wrapping him in a hug. He leaned into her torso, tears staining her dusty coat. She breathed in his scent and ran her spare hand slowly up and down his back, then planted a firm kiss upon the top of his head.

“We’re getting old, Alistair. This is our fate as wardens. I’ve lived a good life. It isn’t that bad yet. Just a bit of pain. I’m still beside you. I’m not gone just yet.”

She couldn’t make out his muffled, choked response, like that of an injured nug. She chuckled softly before pulling away and cupping his tear-stained face, stroking his cheek with her thumb before bringing her lips to his. A soft whimper escaped him. “But you will be. I… I can’t…”

She shushed him as he protested, teardrops now filled her eyes. She held her gaze upwards in a futile attempt to contain them, refusing to be the one that needed comfort. Her words were halted, and her voice slightly cracked beneath her effort to hold her sob back. “But not yet. So… so here’s what we do. We make the most of the time I have while it remains, yes? I’ve always wanted to visit that pastry shop in Val Royeaux. And I know you wanted to go to the cheese stall.”

His eyes were puffy, and the tears left them red and weary. He brushed his hand across an eye, wiping away tears. He gave a slight nod before downing his drink within a matter of seconds. “I’ll get my horse ready then.” 

Cousland finished her Rowan Rose alongside him and left behind a small pile of coins on the table. As they gathered their belongings and left the tavern, they stared into the vast darkness of the sky, glittering stars sparkling brightly underneath the waning moon like diamonds. Alistair leapt onto his horse, extending his hand to his wife, and as he pulled her to him, a slight echo of a whisper resonated in her ear. She swiftly turned her head, thinking it was darkspawn, but nothing stood behind her. She clung tightly to Alistair in fear, frightened not by the grunt of a darkspawn, but by the very words it murmured, and the fact she understood it.

“Too late.”

**Author's Note:**

> I need to upload more. >.<
> 
> Anyway, here's something I've been working on. I want to challenge myself with each new story I write, and this one was more of a focus on vivid imagery, though I still think I'm lacking in that area. And in a lot of areas actually. Yay me.
> 
> Also, I <3 Alistair very much.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! Let me know what you think The Calling would be like! I always envisioned it as whispers from darkspawn that aren't really there. Not sure if the feeling has been described in canon yet, but if it has, please link me to it!


End file.
